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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22685176">Nuts and Volts Shorts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaxceberXVI/pseuds/ShipVigilante'>ShipVigilante (CaxceberXVI)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:28:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22685176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaxceberXVI/pseuds/ShipVigilante</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A few shorts and drabbles of some nuts and volts stuff ive been working on on tumblr</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrian Callows/Arthur Watts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Nuts and Volts Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Role reversal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>For as long as he had been a part of Salem's inner circle ,Watts had been there to patch them up. In all that time not once had the doctor had as much as a paper cut.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Arthur watts was careful, Arthur watts did not get hurt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So to see him lying there, clinging to life, became just a little too much for Tyrian. He’d lost his queen, his goddess, his reason for being . and now he might lose his only friend too.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The salt from his tears was stinging the scratch on his face. The way Salem had clawed into him made his skin crawl. she batted him to the side like an insect; effortless, a reminder of how insignificant he was to her. she’d given him scars before but to leave such a permanent visible mark on his face just seemed petty. Every time he looked in the mirror, it would be there; the memory of the night he’d nearly lost watts.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>if he could stand to look in the mirror after this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Watts breathing was even but shallow unlike his own which was ragged , trying and failing to stifle his sobs .his ribs crunched every time he inhaled it hurt like hell but that was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>his head hurt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>his heart hurt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>tentatively</em>
  <em> he turned to watts, hardly daring to look lest his crumbling facade of composure came tumbling down. He took the doctors hand, running a calloused thumb over the thin scars that covered Watts thin hand. he’d told him once he’d got them as a child when a glass bottle rocket he was making shattered. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tyrian had laughed at the time. not at the thought of watts getting hurt. because arthur watts <b>does not get hurt</b> . but at the thought of watts being young and foolish and full of curiosity, instead of the jaded man that walked in Salem's shadow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>it was getting late but there was no way in hell he could sleep now. Tyrian squeezed watts hand, hoping to communicate that he wasn't going anywhere, not until he woke up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>it might have been his imagination, maybe it was the exhaustion or the bump to his head, but he could have sworn Watts squeezed back </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tyrians Tail</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was well after 3am before tyrian finally fell asleep. not restful sleep mind you; he’d simply passed out from exhaustion, cried and screamed until his body gave out under him. Every now and then, he made a noise that stilled arthurs breath. was he crying in his sleep? he shouldn't be in any pain. not after the amount of painkillers Watts had given him. Unusually for tyrian, he hadn’t refused when Watts produced the syringe full of numbing agent. it never mattered how much anesthetic he pumped into the scorpion faunus he just wouldn’t go under. perhaps it was something to do with his faunus genetics. or maybe tyrian was just too stubborn to succumb to the chemicals…</p><p>He’d learned to give the Hunter a mild analgesic and work fast; it kept them both happy. Watts knew tyrian would stop him if the pain became too much and tyrian didn't have to listen to Watts fussing over him like a child. this time however, both watts and tyrian were silent. Emotions were never his strong suit: even as well as he knew tyrian ( or hoped he knew him) he could never figure out his devotion to Salem. put simply, she <b>was not good </b>to him.He threw himself at her feet and she would kick him to the side like trash. Still for whatever reason, the woman meant enough to tyrian that her disappointment had sent him into an exceptional downwards spiral. tyrian was almost inconsolable: it had taken both Cinder and Hazel to carry him kicking and screaming to his lab. He could tell something had happened just by looking at tyrian, even if he hadn’t been screaming like a banshee. He was in such a state he could barely talk, Cinder had to tell him what happened.Watts had sent them away so he could work but in retrospect he wished he hadn't.  what exactly could he say to comfort tyrian? “there there you only failed a little”? “ she’ll forgive you eventually”? they both knew she wouldn't. he’d tried to focus on making tyrian feel better physically before addressing his mental state; tyrians tail was badly infected, he was dehydrated, fractured ribs and broken his nose. he’d tried to coax tyrian onto a bed and out of his fetal position under a desk with promises of food and water but to no avail. </p><p>If he waited any longer tyrian was going to lose more of his tail to gangrene. he’d need antibiotics but watts was confident he could save most of it if he stopped the bleeding. Watts crouched by the table tyrian was hiding under peering into the dark. the acrid smell of tyrians venom burned the back of his throat “tyrian” he’d said as sternly as he could “if you don't let me treat your tail you are <b>going </b>to lose it. come here.” there were a few moments of silence before two pale shaking hands appeared from the darkness. Grateful  he’d had the forethought to put on gloves , watts gently took tyrians venom covered hands in his own, pulling him up. bearly one step before tyrians legs gave out way. Watts reflexively caught him and hoisted him onto the table, careful not to touch the flailing remains of his tail. </p><p>it had taken <b>hours</b> to patch tyrian up. the venom made his eyes water more than once but it was nothing compared to the torrent that came from tyrian. he’d stopped speaking entirely, lying prone on the desk sobbing until he hiccupped, heaving dryly in a way that made Watts eye a kidney bowl and wonder if he could get there and back before tyrian ruined the finish on his desk.</p><p>He was so focused on keeping the damage to a minimum he didn't notice exactly when tyrians shoulders relax and the crying stifle. only when he’d finally finished did he realise tyrian was out cold. He was covered in blood and venom and tears but now so exhausted himself that he couldn't be bothered to change. he cleaned the venom from his skin and set about making tyrian more comfortable. he’d heaved the scorpion into his arms and wobbled over to his couch. he was about to set tyrian down when his tail began to fall to the floor. a panicked hot flush washed over him; the only thing he could think to do was twist and throw himself into the sofa with tyrian still in his arms. at least then his tail would have a soft landing.</p><p>his plan worked…kinda. tyrian landed softly, bearly stirring in his sleep. but now Watts was trapped under him. The longer he sat there trying to work out how to move the sleeping scorpion on top of him, the more he begin to feel sleep call to him too. Watts reaches for a blanket at the end of the sofa, wrapping it around them both. He still had no idea how to comfort tyrian, so he settle for at least letting him get some sleep. </p><p>it was the best he could do for now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Out in the cold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <b>“Welcome to atlas”</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>tyrian had been standing in the doorway glaring at that stupid sign for the guts of an hour. Watts was never late…or maybe he was. Tyrian was always later, he’d never noticed if the good doctor was punctual or if he was just less late than himself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>the scorpion faunus rubbed his hands and shoulders for warmth, cursing himself for not bringing his jacket with him. he’d been in such a hurry to get to the hideout he was sweating like a sinner in church by the time he arrived. he’d tossed his duster jacket over the bed and sped out the door again, hurrying to meet watts and get back out of Atlas’ prying eyes until sundown.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>that was an hour ago.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>tyrian hopped from foot to foot trying to minimise contact with the cold asphalt. his tail reflexively curled and uncurled from his waist, hissing when the freezing steel made contact with his exposed torso. he kept forgetting it was made of metal now and probably the coldest part of his body. he supposed that did watts credit: that he often couldn't tell part of him was fake. still, what he wouldn't give for a 7ft sock to put over the chitan and metal to keep it warm. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>he was pressed into the wall, the brickwork sapping what little heat he had left. he could step out a little, into the light, allowing anyone to see his breath fog the air or his golden eyes glint in the streetlamps. but if he did that, he might as well walk straight into ironwoods office.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Watts would get a real laugh out of that…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’ll catch your death standing there like that.” Watts snide voice appeared out of the darkness of the alley behind him <br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“i thought scorpions didnt mind the cold. vacuo gets to -3 every night.” Watts stated factually “I</em>
  <em>’m from Mistral.” tyrian pouted still rubbing his shoulders with numb blue fingers. watts rolled his eyes “here.” tyrian felt something heavy, warm and smelling of aftershave land on his shoulders. Soft lambskin brushed against his cheek “whats this for?” tyrian wasted no time pulling watts coat over his frozen limbs. Watts was a little longer than him but otherwise it was a good fit “im from atlas tyrian. and unlike you i understand the concept of ‘weather appropriate clothing’” watts finished fastening the buttons of his sleeves around his wrists “ i can dispense with one layer for the time being.”  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tumblr prompt: Vampires</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>written for my friend May on tumblr. she sent me an ask for my oc kotton and tyrian but said she'd accept a cheeky bit of nuts and volts too. honestly that seemed to work better so thats what i went with.</p><p>Prompt:<br/>Kotton is a vampire, and Tyrian is a willing 'victim' for them. Kotton is incredibly concerned about the welfare of Tyrian and always fusses over them after a feeding, making sure they're still safe and comfortable. They often cuddle and fall asleep together after the feeding. Or the other way around or nuts and volts 👀</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tyrian watches with fascination as his blood moves slowly through the piping to a nearby receptacle. His head is tilted to one side as he takes in the sights with lazy contentment.Arthurss reclined position in the shadows allows him to observe without being seen himself. Truely, in all his years of experience he’d never seen a victim so intrigued by the tools of their own demise. Never had he panicked and called out for help, not once had he even tested his restraints in all the times he had woken in the lab. The first few times were easy to explain away. Perhaps  he was knocked insensible by arthurs emp, perhaps the shock had gotten to him. Or...did he simply not care?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Did he not understand the danger he was in? Few people in his memory had survived this long in such close proximity to a hungry vampire. Tyrian shifts in his seat causing the jar of blood to ripple in place. The shimmer, how every droplet catches the light; gods above he’s absolutely starving.  The thought of that warmth trickling down his throat and pooling in his empty belly sends shivers down his spine. Something about Tyrian's blood was...intoxicating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.'' The scorpion faunus breathes softly. He stretches his legs, joints popping from being in the same position for so long ``''You know... if you wanted to take me to lunch so badly...you could have just asked “ Watts scowles listening to tyrians hysterical laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, Arthur!” he's almost hypnotised by the scorpion's tail swinging rhythmically and low from the bottom of the chair “ you didn't have to go to all this trouble just for little ol me.” Tyrian jangles his restraints. Watts does his best to ignore him, sauntering over to the glass jar and tapping it with one painted nail. A few more drops and it would be full “i invited you down here so no one would see us. And I restrained you because last time we tried this you tried to slit my throat when you woke up.” “ahh yes...good times~” tyrian muses “still. It wouldn't hurt you to try a little...bedside manner. “He snickers “Perhaps a little less...whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is and a little more </span>
  <em>
    <span>step into my parlor...”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Said the spider to the fly...” Arthur rolls his eyes as Tyrian laughs hysterically “yes yes! Now you're getting it!” He bucks backwards, bending unnaturally over the back of the chair to glare at him. Suddenly his arms appear, wiggling free of their restraints “ how did you-”  Arthurs mouth is suddenly dry; tyrian grins wide, his tongue flickering over his lips, the light catching his exposed canines . he trails his lips down his forearm, golden eyes staring right into watts .tyrian uses his teeth to rip out the drip, tossing it away with a flick of his head. Blood oozes from the tiny puncture, tyrian making quite a show of lapping it up “ You want a taste?” Watts nods watching as Tyrian dances in his seat , hips thrusting in the air, spreading his legs wide and inviting him with his eyes.“go on….you know you wanOOF” air is stripped from his lungs as watts plonks his full weight in tyrians lap. “Careful what you ask for tyrian” Watts hisses hot air across tyrians neck “ you just might get it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----------------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a few hours later when it's finally over. Tyrian's upper body is a mess, littered with bites. His half removed shirt is stained with arterial spray. He’s barely conscious but still wearing that infuriating grin as he dangles half on and half off the chair“ you should have stopped me when you got light headed” watts chastises “but we were having so much fun!” Tyrian flings his arms in the air drunkenly, then lets them slam down onto the chair “ you're lucky one of us has some self restraint.” Watts hisses. All that effort to collect a store of tyrians blood and now he has to give it right back just to keep the faunus alive. “You call that restraint!” tyrian giggles “if this is you restrained watts, i'd </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see you feral.” Watts sighs, pressing a kiss to Tyrian's sweaty forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Next time tyrian. Next time.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry aubry, i couldnt get the kottian gremlins to play with me so its nuts and volts this time around. Also let me preface this with the knowledge that i do not like vampires. The concept is fun but i dont fuck with people who dont eat garlic bread. Bella legosi and i do not vibe</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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